


Run, Boy Run

by Kit_Kat_Cat23EH



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Neglect, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, James Potter Lives, Knockturn Alley, Lily Evans Potter Lives, M/M, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28634937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat_Cat23EH/pseuds/Kit_Kat_Cat23EH
Summary: Harry Potter, at age four, was sent to live with his muggle aunt and uncle by his parents after learning that he had no magic.At the age of eleven, he excelled in his schooling, but was never allowed to show it.But at the age of sixteen, someone shows up at Number 4 Private Drive, and they were not normal...
Relationships: Harry Potter/Fred Weasley/George Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 115
Collections: Fanfics Harry Potter não concluidas





	1. Chapter 1

Harry knew something was wrong from the moment he heard the unusual knock at the door. He knew from the way Aunt Petunia gasped after opening the door that there was something very, very wrong.

He stayed in his cupboard, mostly because it was locked, but also because he heard the way her body fell to the tile of the entrance hall with a 'thud'.

Harry new that the next body to hit the floor was Vernon's, and that the quick but heavy footsteps going up the stairs were Dudley's. There was a shout from the intruder and a tumble down the stairs. Dudley was dead.

Another set of footsteps entered the once normal home, and Harry peeked through the vent on the cupboard door. The man was wearing strange, robe-like clothes with a skull-like mask of his face. In his gloved hand was a polished stick that he held out in front of him, almost as if it was a weapon.

"Search every room. Our Lord wants the boy alive." Instantly, Harry quietly moved away from the vent and into the corner where his ratty school bag was sitting. He was use to being quiet, especially when Vernon was in a bad mood.

The two men searched the house, but found no one in any of the rooms. At least, the ones they considered rooms.

"It looks like only one child live here. Did they put him in an orphanage?" One of the men ask while going down the stairs.

"Possibly. But then it would be near impossible to find him. Let's go inform our Lord." They walked out of the hose but not without one of them men saying something that did not sound like a true word.

Harry could hear the fire destroying the once perfect home before he smelt the smoke.

He covered his nose and grabbed his school bag, opening the cupboard door hesitantly. When he saw the unnatural green flames, he gasped and ran for the back door that led to the garden that he maintained.

He jumped the white picket fence with ease but then landed in another lard. He panicked for a moment but then remembered that the house was for sale. Petunia loved her gossip and who she thought would buy the houses in their area. He open the gate that went into the front garden and started to run for the city, but then stopped. 

Harry forgot to grab any money from the now burning house.

He looked back to see the house engulfed in flames, any money that would have been in there was gone.

The teen mentally hit himself, shouldering his pack and started to walk the long way to Surrey. He did not know why he was taking his bag with, when there was only his few folders of worksheets with wrong answers, his text books, and a fiction book from the school library that will now never be returned. Harry had been waiting for his chance to leave Little Whinging, and even though it was tragic, he never loved his aunt or uncle or cousin. He only hoped that they died painlessly.

Harry stopped after a few minutes of walking to sort everything in his pack, when he opened the smallest pocket to see a couple quid in the bottom.

"I may have some luck after all." He mummbled to himself and then opened the biggest park of the pack and took out his text books and folders, but kept the two notebooks that had no writing in them. He also kept the library book.

Harry closed the pack and slung his back on his shoulder, leaving the books and folder on the side of the road.

Nobody noticed that he was walking away from a burning building, not even the police cars that zoomed by.

When night had come, Harry kept on walking down the paved road, smiling at the blinking lights of Surrey in the distance.

When he reached the outskirts of the town, he stopped on a bench with a street light above it. He took out one of the blank note books and a wooden pencil.

 _Day 1_ , he wrote nicely on the first page.

 _I have escaped the Dursley's and now head for London. I have only two note books and a library book, along with maybe four pounds. When I get to London, I will find a job that will allow me to work._ He started but soon erased it and started again.

_Strange men killed my relatives, but not me. I believe that they were looking for me. I have gotten away and now plan for London._

His entry was short, but it would work. He liked writing down a plan, and it would help him remember the little things that could be important later.

Harry put away his stuff then looked around. He would need to find a bus station unless he wanted to walk the way to London.

He started to walk again, but a blue van pulled up next to him.

"Are you lost, sweetie?" A middle aged woman asked from the driver's seat.

Harry swallowed nervously. "Er, I'm just looking for a bus station. Is there one near by?"

"I think so. I could take you to one if you like." She stated kindly. She had a nice smile and kind eyes.

Harry bit his lip before saying okay. The woman open the door to the passenger seat and he climbed in, placing his bag on his lap.

"My name's Beth. What's yours?" Beth shifted gears and started to drive.

"Patrick."

"It's nice to meet you, Patrick. Where're ya heading to?" Beth asked with a glance in his direction. 

Harry shrugged and looked out the window. Beth got the hint and turned on the radio, which started to play some music that he has heard before, but did not know the name of.

It only took a few minutes of watching street lights pass before his eyes started to droop and he fell into sleep.

* * *

"Hey, Patrick. I found the station." Beth shook his shoulder, causing him to shoot up and put up his arms defensively. "Woah there, everything's okay, Patrick. We're at the station. Do you need anything else?"

"No, thanks, Beth." Beth smiled kindly at him and started to dig in her purse.

"Here, you'll need this for your ticket." She handed him five pounds, but he tried to push it back at her.

"I have money." Harry said a bit harshly.

"Take it anyway. You look like you need it."

He hesitantly took the money from her, tucking it into his back pocket. 

"Bye, Patrick! Have a safe trip!" She called to him as he walked towards the entrance of the station. He waved shyly back at her.

He turned back to the entrance and walked in, quickly getting his ticket from a bored worker. His bus would leave in a few minutes. He had gotten lucky on time, otherwise he would have had to wait for almost five hours.

Harry boarded the bus, finding a seat close to the front. 

He was truly free. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What should the library book be?


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had fallen asleep for most of the ride to London. 

When the bus arrived in London, Harry nearly jumped with joy and ran out of the smelly bus.

He wondered for many hours, just looking at signs and the people around him. He looked out of place among the cleanly dressed people. He was still in his old, rolled up jeans and a jumper that was fraying at the sleeves.

Eventually, his feet had started to hurt. He could not find an unoccupied bench for him to sit on, so he wandered some more and found a slightly clean alley where a strange cat was sleeping. He pulled out his note book and started to write below his first entry.

_Day 2_

_Got to London, but have found no where to stay. Will most likely be sleeping on the street._

Harry stopped when he heard footsteps, and looked to the entrance of the alley to see a business man walking by. He rolled his eyes at his own paranoia and continued to write.

_The bus ticket only costed 1.50 pounds, and Beth gave me some money. I should have enough until I find a job if I buy cheap food._

The footsteps started again.

Harry stopped his writing and put away his stuff, getting up and ready to run if something happened. He backed away from the wall, his head looking over his shoulder as he slowly went towards the entrance. But, somehow, Harry was jumped from the side. 

He was easily lifted off his feet, and he swore he felt a rip popped. His pack was ripped from his body, the already weak straps tearing easily. 

"Well, look was we have here. A little street rat all alone." A voice purred in his ear, making him shiver. Harry tried to fight, but he knew it would be no use. He tried to wiggle his way out of the grip, but found himself being held tighter than before, air leaving his lungs. 

Another person strolled into Harry's view. At first he thought that the man was passing by, but the man in a white dress shirt and ironed slacks had a demonic smirk on his face. A pocket knife was in his hand, the blade out and darkened by the shadows of the alley.

"A pretty street rat." A pair of glasses were perched on a crooked nose, and Harry was tempted to make it even crookeder. He struggled when the knife got close to his face, but stopped when it touched his skin. "We could sell you for a lot of coin."

Harry's breath hitched as he heard those words, but the knife on his cheek was threatening. A large hand went over his mouth, and slowly, he started to feel himself slipping into darkness.

* * *

"...waking up, Shirina." A sweet voice said as a blurry face hovered over him. His glasses were gone, and the drowsiness was not helping.

"Get him his glasses." Another female voice commanded. The blurriness receded some after his glasses were put on, but it felt like he had slept for a long time. Two women, one that looked to be his age, both having platinum blonde hair, stood next to his bedside. 

"Where..." Harry rasped out, his voice dry. He sat up, his head banging against the bedframe. "Ouch!"

He was handed a glass of water from the beside table, his pack leaning up on the carved wood. Harry drank it greedily, but slowed down after he realized that he was with two strange women and the last thing that he remembered was being knocked out in an alleyway.

"How did I get here? Who are you?" Harry asked rapidly. He dropped the glass on the sheets and tried to get up, but there was a pain in his leg and ribs that made him fall back onto the bed.

"We found you in a remote entrance to Knockturn, being taken by two sellers into Crook Street. There was a bit of fighting, and the men dropped you weirdly. That's why your leg hurts." The younger woman explained, her voice light and airy. She seemed to be looking off into nothing.

"And my name is Shirina Lovegood. This is my niece, Luna. I run an apothecary in Knockturn. You are in the apartment above my store. You have been sleep for about a week or so, mainly due to the potions we gave you when you woke up disorientated, but-"

"Apothecary? Potions? Where is Knockturn? Am I not in London anymore?" Harry sputtered and tried to back away from both Luna and Shirina, but was restricted by his leg.

Luna looked at him, confused. "Do you not know about magic? Did you not get a letter when you were eleven?"

"Magic?!"

He looked for a way out of the room, but only found strange things, like a bundle of weird looking herbs, gemstones the size of his foot, and a skull of an animal that he is pretty sure does not exist. 

"What's your name?" Shirina asked calmly, somehow his panicked mind finding her words comforting.

"H-Harry." He was surprised when his actual name fell of his lips instead of a fake one like the one he gave Beth.

"Harry, do you know who your parents are? Or if they could do... unusual things?" Shirina asked, placing a ringed hand on his own.

"My parents died when I was a baby. My aunt and uncle said it was drunk driving." Harry said shyly. He had never told that to anyone before, but not they would care.

Shirina smiled at him, showing pearly teeth. "Harry, you can do magic." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a lot of suggestions on what the fiction book should be, and I have also come up with some but I don't know what to choose.  
> (Also I am trying to choose books that you have been published in 1996 or earlier because that is when this is set.)  
> So here is the list!  
> 1\. Outsiders by S. E. Hinton  
> 2\. The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien  
> 3\. Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett  
> 4\. Lord of the Flies by William Golding  
> 5\. The Great Gadsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald


End file.
